He Will Come
by DealingDearie
Summary: The Avengers' thoughts as Thor and Loki depart for Asgard.
1. Tony

I might feel sorry for Loki, you know, if I wasn't me. His eyes hold no empathy, only apathy. Already, the death toll is higher than I'd ever like it to be, the countless

bodies of the innocent being buried in their graves. All of those men, women, and children who will never see the light of day ever again. He should pay, he should burn

for all that he's done. The destruction is still fresh in my mind and the memory of it all, the memory of Coulson, leaves me bitter. His expression is blank and I wish that

I could see one of those 'I'll be back' looks on his sickly little face. That would give me something to look forward to, something to anticipate and prepare for. It would

give me an excuse to lock myself up in my lab, to work on my suit, to even spend a few more hours each day with Pepper ("Let's live our lives before they're gone"). As

Thor holds out the device, the Tesseract locked securely inside of it, to teleport them both back to that alien 'realm', as Thor calls it, Loki looks up from his silent sulking

and takes the other handle. Thor wears a mask of nothingness on his face, but I can see the twitch in his jaw, and Loki's emerald gaze is ever the mystery. Thor twists

his handle and the two brothers are whisked away to Asgard, the blue, wispy tendrils of their departure curling in the air. Yeah, I might feel sorry for the guy. I might

sympathize with him for what his old man is going to do to him when he gets back home. But, you know, I'm not in the sympathizing mood today.

**All rights go to their respectful owners. I own nothing. Please R&R! ;) Feedback is very much appreciated. **


	2. Clint

The monster. He's a devil, a sick, twisted creature with no regard for life. He kills, he destroys, because it makes him laugh. I hope his swollen ego explodes inside of

him, I hope it gets him killed, because Thor is the only thing keeping me from doing the world a favor and snuffing that confident little smirk off the face of the planet.

My mind races with all of the memories of his company, of the feelings I had, of the desperate need to please him that rose within me. For a short time, he was my

master and I his puppet. I want so much to wipe him away from this world, to rip out his black, shriveled heart, if he has one, that is, and grind it between my fingers.

The bastard. I'm relieved when he is sent back to wherever he and Thor came from. His presence is no longer in my mind and having to look at the physical embodiment

of my imprisonment made my blood boil. I'll miss Thor, though, the big teddy bear that could very quickly turn the tides of a war. He's lost, I think. He looks at Loki like

there's an ounce of humanity in the guy, like his little brother is still in there somewhere. I don't believe it, but who am I to tell Thor that his brother is not coming back?

Loki's as good as dead, the way I see it. I hope the gods back in Asgard torture him until he dies. Actually, I hope they make him beg for death. I hope they make him

get on his knees and plead and cry and want it so bad and don't give it to him.

**Please R&R! ;)**


	3. Natasha

He is ruthless. He is sneaky and deceitful and determined. It's one of the many things that we have in common. I hate to admit it, too, but we are similar. I don't feel

like murdering thousands, of course, but the proof is still there, still lying dormant in his unwavering gaze. He is broken, insane, anyone could tell, but there is

something there behind his green eyes, behind his glassy stare, that unnerves me. It unnerves me because I see that something every day when I look in the mirror. It

is the look of regret, the look of horrible, agonizing remorse, and it runs deep. It taunts you during the day and haunts you in your dreams. It makes everything darker.

And yet, he was willing, all too willing, really, to continue this crazy plan. He was set on reaching his goal and I think I know why. He wanted to be done with this, this

strange endless feud that has been going on for who knows how long with him and his brother, so that he could have peace. He wanted to drive himself to the finish line

so that he could finally rest. I know the feeling, I do, but my finish line is far from me. Loki just wanted to speed up the process that only a lifetime of running can

complete. Knowing this, knowing one of the reasons why he has done these horrible, ungodly things, I still don't feel sad for him. I don't even pity him. He is a monster,

a blood thirsty, evil, wretched soul trying to face his problems in all the wrong ways, and it hurts me as he looks up. It hurts because I know that we are the same. Then

he is gone, gone from our lives forever, and I can feel the print that he is leaving on this world, his own mark of darkness, and I know that he has got a long way to go

before he can ever even hope of reaching his finish line. There's just too much blood on our ledgers.

**Please R&R. :)**


	4. Bruce

I don't like being a pawn. I never liked games, either. And Loki loves both. He used us all as pieces in his game and we answered in kind. He twisted and manipulated so

many people, bent them to his will, and I think that we were the first to ever defy his greatness. I may have given in to my instincts, to the other guy inside of me, but I

recovered and they forgave me, they understood. I got my revenge, though, as I think about that poor excuse for a god lying in a hole fit for his own body within Stark's

concrete floor. It still makes me laugh. I look at him now, chained up with hilariously classic enchanted manacles that Thor had in his possession, I suppose for this

moment, and a muzzle placed on his mouth Hannibal style, and I am glad that he is going to leave this place. The Avengers' first villain, taken down and defeated. I'm

happy to see his evil face disappear in a swirl of blue light. I smile in relief, well, we all do, but there is something heavy in the air that I am too scared to acknowledge.

I shiver as a gust of wind blows under my jacket. I never did like being a pawn.

**Please R&R. :)**


	5. Steve

It's over. We won. Loki has been defeated. Loki, the worst villain I've ever faced, taken down by a few super heroes. I find it hard to believe as I stare at him. He's not

trembling like the rest of us. The cold doesn't affect him like it does humans, but even Thor seems uncomfortable in the weather. That tells me that Loki is different from

his brother and the way they look at each other, like there is something unsaid between them, something unresolved, makes me think that the adopted comment from

Thor is true. Loki's eyes are filled with something dark and deep and dangerous and I know that this is not over. How could he have lost so easily? The cocky, egotistical

maniac who threw my newly discovered world into a frenzy of confusion and pain could not have been beaten like he was. The muzzle covers his jaw perfectly, covers it

so that I don't see the twitch of his jaw, the tightening of the muscle there. His eyes shine with turmoil and…fear? Yes, that is fear flashing in his eyes. He is worse than

Red Skull, I realized that a long time ago, but who is so much worse that they strike fear in the eyes of Loki?

**Please R&R. :)**


	6. Thor

My brother can be saved, I know it. The moment on the Stark tower, the moment when his eyes shone with regret, was when he was that scared little boy he used to

be, that restrained younger brother who was the one always looking after me. It is my job to protect him now. My comrades and I have defeated him for now, but I

know my brother, despite his changed ways. He is as determined as I ever was. I would always rush into battle, screaming my battle cry, while he stood in the shadows

and waited out his revenge, waited for the opportune moment to strike. Yes, I can see it all perfectly clear in hindsight. My brother had the utmost capability to hold a

grudge, but I never dreamed that it wasn't below him. He was always so gentle, so shy, that I forgot sometimes how controlled he was, how much he shrank back

behind me, always behind. I feel like kicking myself now, now that I know how stupid I was. I was so, so foolish to think my brother was just naturally calm, naturally

immune to the bloodlust of war. He is not now, I see that, too. He has drive, he has always possessed it, but now that drive has led him to a path not travelled. His

eyes, eyes once so bright and innocent, are now dark remnants of the joy he once had. His face, once so vivid, is sickly. He has always been pale, and I did make fun

of him for it a time or two, but now he is almost transparent, his dark hair longer, his face sunken and ill. He has scratches on his face and bruises on his forehead and

just the sight of him makes me want to cry. My brother, my sweet, wonderful brother has turned into this hollow, lonely shell. Oh, where did I go wrong? Where did I

stop noticing the changes beginning within him? If only I had recognized the glint of sadness in his eyes. I am still hopeful, though. My brother has yet to return to

me, but I believe he can be brought back to the side of light, of goodness and love. I just have to be careful from now on, careful not to dig up memories within his mind,

and maybe, just maybe, I can return my brother to our parents, whole and unbroken.

**Please R&R! :)**


	7. Loki

I have forgotten my reasons for coming to this stupid planet. I know not where it all went wrong, but somewhere along the way I began to slip, my hold began to

weaken, and I was ultimately outdone. My body aches. My head throbs. My heart pumps and I can't believe it still lies within my chest, for all the wrong that I have

done. My memory is alive and vivid, though, and the image of Thor, the image of his glory, hurts my eyes. He hands me the teleportation device and I wish so badly to

tell him that if I wanted to go hom- Asgard, then I would do it myself, but the damned muzzle they've put on my mouth binds my lips shut and holds my tongue down

with a metal flap that tastes of rust. I look at him and I hope he knows. I have not only forgotten my reasons for coming here, but I have lost my reason entirely. I have

lost my will. It is not because of these pathetic mortal exceptionals who have captured me, no. It is because of _him._ He who courts death and will make me long for

something as sweet as pain. Thor gives me no indication that he knows what I am trying to convey and I take the handle as he twists it. There is a hazy mist about us, a

swirling of colors, not unlike the Bifrost, but it makes me dizzy and I almost fall ill at his feet as we are transported to the realm Eternal. I push back the urge to vomit,

for it would cause me great pain to do so with this restraint binding my mouth, and I come to a steely resolve. Thanos will find me, of that I have no doubt, and Fathe-

Odin will not kill me because he is like Thor. He is soft and still believes he has two sons. He will punish me severely, I know, but no sentence in these golden halls, no

sentence anywhere, will compare to what is to come. Thor may not see the fear in me, and Odin might stand ignorant still, but Frigga will see it in her beloved son.

She will see the anguish and torment and fear that I used to hide so well. She will see it because it is raw and exposed. Yes, let them torture me, let them sew my

lying lips, let them pluck out my eyes, let them come and kill me once and for all, because this life will end soon enough anyway, just like every other life in every

other realm of the universe. Thanos will come and snatch me from this bittersweet place and as we leave he will destroy everything just because it exists. The fear

flashes in my eyes and I do not try to hide it as I always have. The muzzle is removed and I fall to Thor's feet in a mess of black, treacherous blood and vomit.

**Please R&R. :)**


	8. Frigga

I sit here in this immense city of golden halls and life eternal and think that perhaps I should feel proud of it all, of this magnificent glory Asgard has gained for itself, but

all I feel is an aching loneliness in my chest. This life of luxury is what tore my son from me, this giant expectation to be as golden as the House of Odin must always be,

and for that reason I am no longer content to sit here and stare out my chamber window. I am no longer eager to see the sun cast lasting rays that sparkle against the

Bifrost. I am ashamed of this place, this perfect apple with a rotten core, that pushed my son from me. And then there is Thor. We could tell from the moment he was

born that he would be great and wonderful and everything Loki felt the urge to be, everything Loki was. He was a good brother to Loki, filled to the brim with love for his

sibling, but Loki remained discontent. I could see the shadows in his eyes as he grew older, the reflection of hatred lying dormant in his gaze, and it chilled me that he

did not see his worth. The fact that Odin was blind to this set my worries in motion and before I knew it, my precious Loki was lost, pushed to the edge by a lie turned

truth, and I could do nothing but mourn the empty spaces in my life. After Thor left for Midgard, the revelation of Loki's appearance still swirling within my mind, I could

feel the tension slicing through the tranquil, ever constant air of Asgard. Something was terribly wrong and everyone, even Odin, knew it. Now, I still sit here, gazing out

my chamber window in the very same way that I do not wish to, and I am eagerly awaiting the moment a flash of blue appears on the rainbow bridge. I can feel them

coming, returning to their home, safe and sound, and when they arrive I shall take my time. I will hold my breath until Loki is within the walls of this great palace and

then I will tell him the truth that I myself have come to realize with a certainty that rivals all others, the truth that Loki has always known. These glory filled halls may

be fine and wonderful and welcoming, but they mask dark prison walls that bind you in place, constrict you until you are but a puppet on a string, and I will not stay

idle in this façade of a home.

**Please R&R!** **Special thanks to GingerNinjaRules: I didn't think there were any more ideas for this, but reading your message turned on a few lightbulbs. ;) **


	9. Odin

I have never felt regret, not the true remorse so rarely spoken of in this realm, hidden within the songs of old. It is that very thought that drives me toward the creeping

revelation that I was wrong. Wrong to treat Loki as I did, or maybe even wrong to steal into the casket chambers and slip away with a green eyed baby in my arms. I

could always notice the way the boy hovered behind his brother, the ever present shadow that, though as bright as the moon, blended into the darkness. He was, is, my

son, and always will be, but Thor was so much easier to handle, with his combat skills his only priority. Loki was concerned with books and magic and dark corners fit for

solace. I was perhaps wrong, then, to force the child into a world so different than the one he came from, the realm made of darkness so thick that it seeped into his

blood, that he carried it with him his entire life. I was perhaps wrong, then, to give my attention to Thor, the boy whose blood was my own. I should have seen it, really,

the fading light within Loki's eyes, the childish pout that slowly disappeared as he schooled his features into a mask of nothing, but I was too concerned with my realm,

my duties that have long been dormant, and with Thor, never Loki. The love in my heart was always there, but I did not give my heart, now did I? No. Instead, I gave

my lies and I never told him the truth and when the day finally came, when the moment arose, I could not even give my voice. Now, as I sit on my golden throne, my

wife strangely absent from my side, I think back to that moment, that single silent moment in the world just before everything fell into disrepair. I have never felt

regret, but as I remember his eyes, eyes that shone with the pain of such great betrayal, I feel it deeper than any wound.

**Please R&R! Who do you think I should do next? )**


End file.
